Page 70 of When Forever Falls Apart

I shift carefully, my muscles taut with apprehension, and lean over to my nightstand, taking care not to wake Madelina.

My phone tells me it’s blue skies all day long.

Yet I can’t shake the feeling that another storm is brewing.

Something just isn’t sitting right.

So, I do the only thing I can think of doing at the moment. I slide beneath the sheets and between Madelina’s legs.

It’s breakfast time.

And I am starving for more.

CHAPTER 19Madelina

“I could get used to pancakes in bed.”

Elliot has managed to cook a gourmet breakfast while I fell back to sleep after he woke me up with a good-morning orgasm.

Every inch of me aches, especially when Elliot places the tray on my lap and I’m forced to sit up. On the plate is a stack of fluffy, golden pancakes, with warm syrup that cascades like liquid gold. Beside it sits a row of strawberries sprinkled with what appears to be icing sugar, and my savior—caffeine.

I’m absolutely starving from spending the night partaking in sexual activities.

After we realized there were no condoms left, it almost put a damper on things.

But then the night took this wild turn. To be honest, I lost count of how many times we did it. Elliot wasinsatiable.

Beneath the sheets, my nipples turn hard, but they’re sore from all the foreplay and they sting, causing me to wince.

I snap out of the daydream and try to focus back on the pancakes.

“Is everything okay?” Elliot asks beside me, his eyes furrowing with concern.

“These are the best pancakes I’ve ever tasted,” I say, quick to distract him from my ailment.

“Hey, if you want to have your way with me, you know you just need to ask, right? No need for all this flattery,” he teases, a roguish smirk dancing across his lips.

I take another bite, but the thought of him inside me again spreads a pool of moisture between my legs, forcing my whole body to react. I wince again, then place the fork down, taking a deep breath.

“Okay, will you tell me what’s wrong?” Elliot questions again.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than Margaret Anne watching you come?”

I press my lips together to suppress my smile, but of course, I fail. Margaret Anne is a voyeur, which should be noted for next time.

If there is a next time.

“It’s just, everything is kind of sore, and every time you talk, move, or even breathe, it’s kinda, you know… turning me on, which then makes everything sore again.”

Elliot pouts, but his devilish grin lingers. “Poor baby. Did I fuck you too hard?”

I nod, pretending to play the victim.

“I have an idea,” Elliot says, keeping his tone calm. “How about you finish breakfast, then hop in the shower. The warm water may help.”

“That should help,” I say, but then my expression shifts as I note the time. “Um, I need to go help Billie with opening the café. We should probably, you know, talk about last night, and this morning.”